chapter 192 part 2
Was she disappointed? Or did she just feel she had been too naive? At this thought, Daenerys struggled to maintain a calm expression.
Daenerys's amethyst eyes gazed out the window. She said softly, "Am I being treated like a valuable commodity again?"
Though her face showed no anger, the hand hidden beneath the table was clenched into a tight fist.
Ser Jorah glanced worriedly at the silver-haired princess. "It's said that Dik dissuaded His Grace Viserys when he was beginning to be swayed."
Daenerys seemed somewhat lost in thought, murmuring, "That's right, I'm worth ten thousand soldiers... at least no one in this city can afford that price..."
After a moment of silence, Ser Jorah took a step forward, his eyes fixed on Daenerys, who was hiding her sorrow.
"Princess Daenerys, besides his determination to reclaim the Iron Throne from the usurper, Viserys is a King easily swayed by flattery."
He added, "I will be blunt. There are certainly people in this world who will cherish you, but that person will absolutely not be your brother."
Pausing for a moment, Ser Jorah looked again at the still-expressionless Daenerys and continued, "His Grace Viserys is dangerous. He is dangerous to you. You... you trust your brother too much."
Under the guise of smoothing her hair, Daenerys secretly wiped away a tear that had yet to fall.
Seeing Daenerys struggling to compose herself, Ser Jorah felt a pang in his heart.
His voice was like a biting winter wind. "Princess Daenerys, His Grace Viserys needs a wake-up call. I am willing to do what is necessary."
"Ser, I am grateful for your loyalty. But I hope you remember that Viserys is my family. I will not actively harm my brother. Never."
Daenerys looked out the window, her voice calm as she spoke.
After another moment, her gaze shifted to Ser Jorah, and her expression softened. "I promise..."
Her eyes swept over the few people present. "...I will not disappoint you all again. This is the last time."
Everyone bowed their heads to Daenerys in respect.
...
...
Essos, near a small harbor, the rising sun cast a soft glow across the sky.
In a crystal-clear lake, Lena swam like a fish, her red hair fanning out in the water like a lick of flame.
At the lake's edge, Jon Snow couldn't help but steal another glance at the beautiful sight in the water... Lena came here every morning. It was truly a... good habit.
Jon took a few steps, picked up the clothes Lena had casually thrown on the grass. The boy of ice from The North couldn't hide the joy in his heart.
...
By the campfire, Lena took the long robe he offered. She didn't hurry to put it on. Her bright eyes stared directly at Jon, who was looking away evasively.
"Like what you see?"
Hearing this, Jon immediately turned his head aside.
The red-haired girl let out a crisp laugh. "Do you like it?"
Jon's voice sounded somewhat helpless. "I'm sure of it."
The red-haired girl got a little angry. She threw the clothes back onto the grass, and Jon was forced to feel her warmth against him.
Just as Jon's breathing grew heavy, the red-haired girl suddenly burst out laughing, pushed him away, and picked up her clothes again.
As Lena put on her dress, she said, "My father is waiting for me to make breakfast. If I'm late, he'll come looking for us with a fish spear."
Jon rubbed his face with both hands and said, "Alright."
After a while, Lena sat down close to Jon, resting her head gently on his sturdy arm. "Have you decided?"
After a pause, Jon shook his head slightly. "There are people there I don't know if I should see. I haven't made a decision yet."
Lena looked up at Jon. "You should go. When you get there, maybe you'll find your answer."
"I could take you with me."
"My father wouldn't agree."
Jon put his arm around Lena. "I'll be back soon."
Lena reached out and caressed Jon's cheek. "You shy boy. I'll wait for you to come back, but don't make me wait too long. My father has been wanting to find me a fisherman for a husband."
Jon smiled warmly. "I've calculated the time. I can be back in three months at most."
...
...
Pyke on the Iron Islands was an ancient fortress. It was originally built on a cliff jutting out into the sea, but over time, as the rocks supporting the cliff were eroded by the water, the towers of Pyke were gradually isolated on fragile, teetering sea stacks, constantly surrounded by the damp, salty sea air.
Outside the main gate of Pyke's great keep, Theon Greyjoy stood with a head of jet-black hair, a lean figure, and dark skin. He first looked at his own hands, then stared blankly at the woman who shared his sister's name, his lips trembling nonstop.
Asha Greyjoy was slender with long legs and short black hair.
She gave a smile that looked utterly wicked. "Was it a good feel? My dear little brother."
Theon finally snapped back to his senses, flushing with shame and anger. "You! Why didn't you tell me who you were sooner?!"
"A sister has to see what sort of degenerate you've become in Winterfell first."
She gave Theon a mocking curtsy, then said, "Well then, Your Highness, I beg you to excuse me. I must go change into something more presentable, so I may properly attend your welcoming feast."
Theon watched his sister's retreating back, standing frozen like a fool... He had actually, in front of Asha... and she had... Ugh, by the gods!
Theon felt like a complete and utter idiot, and one who had willingly played the part.
Theon's mute Squire was giggling foolishly beside him. The laughter finally brought Theon to his senses and gave him an outlet for his anger.
Theon viciously slapped his squire, Wex, across the face. "What the fuck are you laughing at?!"
He slapped him again, roaring, "Who told you not to speak sooner! Who told you not to have a tongue! Next life, remember to grow a tongue for me!"
(end of chapter)